The Upside to Paranoia
by LeaderPinhead
Summary: The Decepticons have managed to create an even more devastating fangirl! Will the Autobots see through their devious plans in time? [The pointless continuation of "A Decepticon's Guideline to Dealing with Fangirls" and "When You Wish Upon an Acorn"]


**AN:** Because I just felt the strange urge to do another :3

Time Units  
Nano-klik (klik): ~1 second  
Megacycle: ~2.6 hours  
Stellar cycle: ~7.5 months  
Solar cycle (cycle): 1 day

**Warnings:** _definite_ OOCness ahead, "slash" references, brief dirty humor

* * *

The Upside to Paranoia

A Transformer/Beast Wars One-Shot

* * *

Megatron proudly smirked as his loyal minions looked up at him with mindless awe. They basked in his glorious and awesome presence; dreamed to be as grand as he; to be the leader that lead them to their boundless future…

"Quit daydreaming about whatever fragged up image you have generated of yourself and tell us why we're here!"

The bubble in which the former gladiator resided in was harshly popped by the screeching voice, and he glared down at the ragtag group impatiently waited for him to speak. Gone were the clean frames who viewed him in reverence and put in their place were the bored expressions of Seekers (except Starscream, who scowled at him with untold hatred…that fragger); an impatient Swindle who was obviously checking his chronometer every five kliks; the image of the ever emotionless Shockwave (live from Cybertron via comm. link); and Soundwave, who kept looking at what he had hidden behind his back with a visor band that was brighter than usual.

He almost felt bad for his ever loyal third. Poor Soundwave—the fangirls had really traumatized him. It almost made Megatron guilty for what he was about to do…

…not really! This was war and sacrifices had to made, even it was the sanity of his troops. Soundwave would get over it…someday…eventually…he hoped. It'd be pretty awkward looking for a new third if he had a debilitating mental breakdown this far into the game. That was almost up there with being eaten by a Dinobot. _Very_ awkward indeed.

"It has recently come to my attention that my original plan of a femme army may have been…a little too ostentatious."

"You mean completely stupid and a waste of our already limited resources? Then I completely agree!"

Skywarp and Thundercracker took a step back from the tri-colored jet as Megatron angrily scowled down at them. "No, at the rate your berth gave me the fangirls it would take…how long was it again?"

"5,312 stellar cycles," both Decepticon 'Waves simultaneously answered. A staring contest proceeded to take place between the two as Megatron continued unfazed.

"Yes, 5,312 stellar cycles until a formidable army could be conceived. So essentially my original plan's failure is all your fault Starscream."

"What!" Starscream unpleasantly screeched, causing the mechs in the room to automatically dial down their audial inputs. "You can't blame _me_ because of your dumb plan's failure!"

"I can, I will, and I have. So pipe down you sniveling swine!" Megatron aimed his fusion cannon at the raging Seeker, who promptly yelped and ducked for cover behind his trine mates. The annoyance now taken care of, Megatron redirected his attention to Shockwave, who absolutely refused to allow his stoic stare to lose to Soundwave's. He had a reputation to uphold after all. "Shockwave has yet again proven his competence as the Decepticon's leading mind."

"Thank you Lord Megatron," Shockwave replied, breaking off the staring contest to properly address their leader. He'd just have to outstare Soundwave another time. "It honors me that you would entrust such a delicate and _important_ procedure with—"

The sound feed from the scientist's call was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a loud crash, and Shockwave ex-vented in mild annoyance. There was giggling from another part of his lab before an obnoxious sounding voice yelled, "I totally meant to do that!"

"My fangirl!" Skywarp yelled with excitement, and Thundercracker surreptitiously collected the small amounts of credits he had wagered with Swindle. Both mechs needed something to pass the time and betting on simple things like how long Skywarp could stay quiet seemed to work. Next up was how long it would take Megatron to actually take a shot at Starscream.

"Yes, _your_ fangirl," Shockwave repeated, making sure to put extra emphasis on "your." "She has proven to be most…_insightful_ for my latest creation."

"Tell 'Warpy I said I love him!"

"…no."

"Awe. Can I come back to Earth yet?"

"No!" the mechs in the room yelled together (with the exception of Skywarp, who of course eagerly awaited his pet's return). Shockwave's call was then "mysteriously" dropped before the fangirl-turned-femme could appear on the screen, and the Decepticons couldn't help but release a sigh of relief.

"Darn," Skywarp whined as he crossed his arms in a pout (earning Thundercracker another handful of credits). "I miss Staci."

"I thought she changed it to Casey before leaving."

"Really? I've been calling her 'Moron' the whole time she was here."

"Silence!" Megatron shouted before the Seekers could wander off into a more in-depth conversation about the abnormal femme's name. "Today we shall release a new threat onto Optimus' Autobots, one that will ensure our complete and total victory!"

"Not meaning to interrupt or anything," Swindle finally spoke up, hands in the air like it would keep Megatron from shooting him due to the interruption. "But why exactly am I here? I mean, I understood my part in your last devious plot, but why now?"

"Because your business with the human will enable us to send our new weapon to the Autobots without suspicion." An evil smirk crossed Megatron's face as he finally pulled his latest plot out from behind his back to show off to his minions. "Behold! The first step towards the Autobots' downfall!"

The mechs gaped at what he held, and Soundwave took a step back, placing a hand over the glass compartment in his chest as if to protect the Cassettes currently residing there. Starscream's wings fluttered in a surprising moment of lack of words, and Skywarp huddled close to Thundercracker. Swindle's abnormal purple optics winked off to reset before his "business mech" persona kicked into gear. "I'm gonna need a bigger box…and a lot of stamps."

**][**

"Mail!"

Jazz grinned at the bellowed yell that shook the _Ark_ and immediately threw aside the datapad that he had been working on in favor of dashing out the door at top speeds. It had been a somewhat recent occurrence for the Autobots to become a part of the delivery system, but word got out about giant alien robots fighting other giant alien robots to protect the world. Humans seriously digged that kind of stuff, and fans were inevitable. They somehow got the address of the _Ark_ (which Red Alert was still trying to figure out; he had just gotten over glitching at the fact that _nobody_ cared to inform him that they actually had an official address now), and fan mail poured in every day. Bumblebee usually had the biggest pile of letters, plushies, and other miscellaneous cute stuff, but Optimus and the Jazz-man were some serious contenders in the "Who's the most popular 'Bot?" contest.

Speaking of fan stuff, where was his daily pile of knickknacks? He had a new shelf in his office to fill after Prowl had confiscated the mini-shrine he had dedicated to his love for the SIC. Witnessing the mech's battle computer completely shut his systems down to protect his fragile sanity had been _totally_ worth the megacycle afterwards with Ratchet yelling at him for being childish while simultaneously using his signature wrench to its full potential _and _fixing Prowl up good as new. If anything could be said about the medic it was that he was great at multitasking.

Jazz skidded around a corner just in time to witness Grimlock chasing the mailman down. Poor mailman—he had a hard enough time with dealing with the _Canis familiaris _that humans kept as pets. Adding a Dinobot to the mix just seemed cruel. But what was he going to do about it? The Dinobot leader tended to do whatever he wanted, and the mailman hadn't been eaten yet. According to his research of human pop culture, that was just a safety hazard that came with the job.

Guilt effectively squashed, the saboteur danced his way over to the small group of 'Bots and expertly shimmied between them to take a look at today's latest haul. "Wha' d'we got taday? Giant plushies? Some stylish art ta decorate the _Ark_? Questionable paraphernalia dat'll need ta be, uh, 'investigated' by yours truly?"

"Speaking of which," Mirage spoke up as his commanding officer slipped past him. "How much longer until that expensive buffer is cleared?"

"Uh, we been kinda backlogged lately. Ah wouldn't expect ta see that fo' another…stellar cycle at least."

"'At least'?"

"Oh yeah! It's a long an' hasslin' process my mech. It's gotta go through Red, then me, then Prowler, then O.P. Then it's gotta go ta Ratch' fo' da medical okay; then it ventures on ova' ta 'Jack ta make sure it won't explode; then 'Hide's gotta make sure it aint no weapon in disguise; then-"

"So in other words, I will never see it again."

"Ah'm not da one who said it."

Hound chuckled at the exasperated sigh the former noble released as Jazz continued to the center of the tiny crowd. He popped out beside Bumblebee and some of his fellow Mini-Bots, rubbing his servos in obvious excitement. However, the excitement was amazingly short lived as a frown took the place of the eager grin, and the Special Ops mech slumped his shoulders in obvious disappointment. "Awe! Only one package? Man, dat sucks!"

"This whole idea sucks to begin with!" Cliffjumper griped with Huffer nodding along beside him. "The only ones who always get anything out of this are you, 'Bee, Sideswipe, and Optimus. Sometimes Prowl, Ratchet, and Ironhide get something, but no one else gets anything unless they buy it themselves."

A glare from the Mini-Bot was directed back at Mirage, who simply turned his helm away with an air of arrogance. So what if he bought himself nice things every once in a while? The red Mini-Bot was just singling him out because the false claims of being a traitor. It wasn't like other mechs, like Sunstreaker or Grapple, weren't buying themselves stuff when they find the human currency to do so.

"Oh come on Cliff'!" Bumblebee said cheerfully as he slung a companionable arm around the grumpy mech's shoulder. "You get letters all the time! You know, from the little girl who draws pictures of you being pink and stuff."

Cliffjumper glared at the snickering that ensued and threw the happy-go-lucky mech's arm off his shoulder to stomp away. Bumblebee shrugged at the familiar behavior and turned back the enormous box, which was almost the same height as an average Mini. He was extremely curious as to what could be inside. "I think the sticker had Optimus' name on it."

He jumped back as the box was suddenly lifted from the ground, and Jazz staggered for a moment under its weight before taking off down the hallway. "Make way fo' da Prime's package!"

Mirage shook his head at the saboteur's behavior while the mini-crowd began to disperse, leaving only him, Bumblebee, and Hound. "I still fail to see how he managed to be promoted to his position."

Bumblebee just smiled as the ground beneath them began to quake at the return of the mechanical T-Rex. Grimlock spat out the tire he had managed to wrangle from the fleeing mail truck and held his head high as he made his way back into the tiny Autobot ship. "Me Grimlock king! Beat puny Decepticon spy again!"

"One day someone will have to explain to him that the mailman isn't a Decepticon," Hound stated as the mechs followed behind the "grandiose" Dinobot.

Meanwhile, Jazz was speeding down the hallway and cutting sharp curbs with shouts of "Gain way!" to ensure his fellow mechs jumped out of his way at the very last second. Steeljaw hissed as he whizzed past Blaster's Cassettes; Bluestreak yelped and jumped into a surprised Sideswipe's arms as he narrowly missed being mowed down by the smaller mech; Tracks bellowed a haughty "Watch it!" as Jazz came close enough to leave a fine scratch on the mech's paint.

Jazz merrily ignored the chaos he left in his wake and noisily barged into the Autobot leader's personal office. Everyone inside looked up at the sudden disturbance and any discussion that may have been going on before came to an abrupt halt as the package was slammed onto the desk in front of Optimus. Jazz lifted himself onto the edge of the box to grin over and down at the confused mech. "Ya gotta package O.P.!"

"Uh," the Prime momentarily stuttered as he looked up at the excitement glinting in the saboteur's visor. "Thank you? If you will, just place in the corner over there, and I will get to it when I can."

"What!" Jazz shouted in an almost offended tone. "You can't _wait;_ ya gotta open it _now_ O.P."

Optimus glanced around at the other officers currently surrounding them and sighed. "Jazz, I know this may be hard to comprehend, but I'm actually _working_ at the moment. That's why you weren't required to attend this meeting."

"Ah understand that! But _you _gotta understand dat _Ah'm_ not leavin' now without knowin' what's in dis box." The saboteur tapped his fingers against the lid of the box and did a few push-ups on top of it. "This is a _very_ stable box. Ah'm impressed by the hu—"

Jazz's words were rudely cut off as the cardboard box finally gave out under his weight, and an undignified yelp escaped from Optimus as he received a lapful of Jazz. The officers present stared as the potentially awkward moment was diffused by the one and only Jazz, who carelessly threw his arms around the commander's neck and tilted his helm cutely against the other mech's windshield chest. "How you been doin' stud muffin?"

"Jazz?"

"Hmm?"

Without warning, the TIC found himself sprawled out on the floor beside the Prime's feet, optics fluttering on and off behind his visor in complete surprise. Optimus stood up from his chair and shot a brief glance down at the floor. "You broke my box."

"Whoops."

"It was a very big box."

"It was."

"…I can never get that box back."

"Ah'm sorry!"

Ratchet shook his head as Wheeljack chuckled beside him. "Can we get back to the matter at hand?"

"Yes!" Red Alert fully agreed from the corner before stalking over to glare at the now smaller box. "How did _this_ get into the base without _my_ authorization?"

The medic lifted a hand to massage his grey chevron while the Security Director glared at the harmless box from every angle, Jazz continued to dramatically beg for forgiveness from a passively glaring Optimus, and Wheeljack, Blaster, and Ironhide continued to be amused by the situation. Really, the only one he could take seriously around the _Ark_ nowadays was Prowl…

"How was that box able to support Jazz's weight for so long? That shouldn't even be logically possible."

Annnnd he'd finally lost Prowl too. "_Who cares?_ My med-bay is ten feet underwater because Lite-Brite over here decided to make a water cannon for the Twins! I vote that we finally put him down."

"Aw Ratchet! You're such a kidder." Wheeljack's nervous chuckled completely died when the medic turned to give the mech his most brutal glare, and the fins on either side of the engineer's flashed nervously. "Ratch? Buddy? Come on! It wasn't _that _bad."

"I still haven't found First Aid."

"Well, maybe he…got…thirsty and took a break?"

Poor Blaster was carelessly shoved aside by the enraged Ratchet, who had the hapless engineer in a stranglehold before anyone else in the room could react. Everyone just sort of stared as Wheeljack's main air intake was cut off and mercilessly prevented from cooling his overtaxing systems. The terrible thing was that they wanted to help the mech—they really did—but every Autobot had learned early on not to mess with Ratchet when he was in this kind of mood. If they thought the target of his anger had it bad, it was _nothing_ compared to what the mech who interrupted would be submitted to.

But Primus seemed to find the engineer too amusing to let die just yet. Just before Wheeljack could make it to the pearly white gates of the Well of Sparks, there was a shout from the other end of the room that served as the perfect distraction for the raging medic. The officers turned to see Red Alert with his rifle out and aiming at the squeezed box. "It moved!"

"Alright," Ironhide said, his loose drawl making that one word an opener for a humorous statement. "Who gave Red his gun back? I thought we all agreed to keep him on weapon probation 'til the whole 'the-humans'-leaders-are-now-Decepticon-mind-slave s' incident at the World Summit last month blew over."

"They are!" the Security Director severely defended, only a few blue sparks between his helm-horns signaling the precarious state his processor was in at the moment. "But this has nothing to do with that…unless this is part of the conspiracy!"

"Red, it's prob'ly just a toy or somethin'," Blaster calmly ventured as he cautiously stepped closer to his paranoid comrade. Someone needed to get the weapon from the Lamborghini before he did something irrational, and he couldn't take Jazz's attempts seriously when the saboteur was slowly inching along the floor like the insect the humans called an "inchworm". "Ah got lotsa humans sendin' me lil' robot toys for the 'settes. 'Specially lil' mice for Steel."

Red Alert looked thoroughly unconvinced (not a very shocking turn of events for anyone) but him staying focused on Blaster gave Jazz the perfect opportunity to shoot up from his inchworm position and snatch the gun away from mech. But Red Alert was surprisingly prepared for the sneak attack and immediately caught the black and white mech's hand. Jazz grunted but refused to release the part of the gun he had grabbed, and a tugging war ensued between the two officers.

"Gimme da gun!"

"You're in on this too; I always knew you'd be the traitor, traitor!"

The Autobots in the room hit the floor when the gun suddenly went off. Silence reigned through the room as Optimus slowly peeked out from under the desk. He gave Jazz a flat look, and the saboteur casually tossed the gun he had managed to wrangle from Red Alert's grip to Blaster, who fumbled with it before actually being able to hold it. "Jazz…you've officially killed the box."

"Oh no! Ah'm a box-killer!" Crisis now averted, Jazz fell back to his knees to crawled to over to his commanding officer to beg for forgiveness. "Optimus, Ah'm so sorry!"

"We'll never get that box back now."

"Ah'm so bad!"

"I'm done," Ratchet groused, throwing his hands into the air while stomping towards the door. "Wheeljack come anywhere near me for the next stellar cycle and I can't promise to be civil."

"So…I'll meet you this afternoon in the rec-room for a cube?"

The medic grunted at the engineer's cheery statement and left the room without another word. Or would have had the box behind him not released a shrill cry. Each officer turned to the box in almost perfect sync and stared as another hesitant cry came from it. Red Alert latched onto the closest mech (poor Blaster; it just wasn't turning out to be his day) and pointed at the box in a somewhat proud way. "See? I told you! There's something in the box."

Jazz was immediately on his feet and scrutinizing the crying box with a new glint of severity in his visor. He looked over to Prowl, who was studying the box just as closely now, and silently pointed at the box. Prowl shook his head, and Jazz splayed his fingers out, palm up, at the box. The SIC appeared to briefly analyze the percentages with his powerful battle computer and shook his head again, getting a "Come on!" look from the TIC. Jazz then turned to Optimus and used both hands to gesture at the box, then Prowl, then the commander. Optimus looked at Prowl, then Jazz, and nodded despite Prowl's furious head shaking.

"I kinda wished I could have silent conversations like that," Ironhide whispered, completely breaking the awkward silence that had ensued during the three top Autobots' conversation of gestures. "Be a lot easier ta dirty talk with 'Mia durin' those borin' meetings."

Wheeljack outright guffawed at the sleazy grin that accompanied the Weapons Specialist's words, and Blaster slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent his own laughter from escaping. Even Jazz lost his seriousness and gripped the desk in an attempt to stay upright and force his laughter to stay in. Ratchet shook his head at their immaturity, and Red Alert just continued to glare at the box.

Another cry came from the box, and Optimus finally stepped up to take control of the situation, gently pushing the giggling Jazz aside and ripping the top of the squashed box off. He stared at the contents, reset his optic relays, and stared some more. He finally gestured for Ratchet to step closer. "Ratchet, I believe I might finally be losing my mind. Please tell me you see the same thing inside this box."

The medic stepped forward and peeked over the rim of the box. He reached into the box with little hesitation—much to Red Alert's immense dismay—and pulled out what Optimus had been staring at, immediately cradling the little body in his arms. "How could –ugh! The nerve of some people today—putting a newborn sparkling in a box? She must be positively traumatized by now."

The tenseness that had accumulated since the animating of the box promptly dispersed as hardened soldiers flocked to the medic, cooing and wiggling their fingers in the face of the pure pink sparkling. She cooed back and cutely latched onto Ironhide's finger, making the tough old Autobot positively melt. Each mech had a chance to adore the new addition to the _Ark_ because of course they weren't about to throw her out.

All except for Red Alert, who continued to glare from the corner. Sparks lit up between his horns as he watched the sparkling be taken away for Ratchet to fully exam, and instead of following his comrades, he ventured over to where the box still lie on the desk. He turned the box around and straightened it enough to see the sticker on the side, dimming his optics in severe suspicion at the lack of return address.

Something was extremely fishy about all of this. And he was gonna figure it out or his name wasn't Red Alert!

**][**

"Aww~!" Sideswipe cooed as he propped his elbow on the top of a Mini-Bot's head. He ignored the anonymous Mini-Bot's glare and leaned in closer to look at the little femmeling lying in Ratchet's lap. "She looks so cute! I didn't know you had a spark capable of making sparklings Hatchet."

The front-liner yelped and jumped back to avoid the datapad that was thrown at his head. The sparkling cried out when the mech vanished from her sights but became complacent once more he popped back up. Sideswipe grinned and pulled a chair over from another table to plop down between the medic and Optimus, grin widening even more as the sparkling waved her hands at him in an obvious gesture of wanting to be held. "Ha! You might not be able to stand me, but you sparkling absolutely adores me already!"

Jazz, sitting opposite to them at the table with Bumblebee draped across his back to get a better look at the sparkling, snickered as Sideswipe suddenly vanished beneath the table with a yelp. Ratchet gave the younger mech another kick for good measure before returning to his cube of Energon. "Don't think for a nano-klik that means _I _have to put up with you."

The femmeling stared with bright aqua optics at the empty space beside them before scrunching her face up in a sparkbroken expression and hiccupping in the sign of oncoming tears. The mechs simply died at the sight, but Ratchet just patted the squealing bitlet on the back and continued with his meal. "Hush now. It's best for the both of us just to put that slagger in his place now before he gets a big head."

"He's already got one!" one of the Autobots surrounding the table piped up, and laughter erupted throughout the room as the top of Sideswipe's head popped up to glare at the source of the quip.

Meanwhile around the corner of the door, Red Alert watched them all through narrowed optics. The way the Autobots all flocked to see the miniature spy put things harshly into perspective for him. Even Inferno had been gushing about the cuteness the evil thing exuded.

The Decepticons had finally found the Autobots' weakness: sparkling cuteness. How _devious. _

"_Ahem_."

Mirage took a step back as the Security Director's head almost turned a complete (and _very _creepy) one-eighty to glare at the source of the noise. Bluestreak simply smiled at the glaring mech, twitching his door-wings in purposeful obliviousness. "Hey Red! Nice to see ya out and about instead of locked up in your security hub. I get kinda worried about you when you stay in there for days and days and days and days an-"

"I think he gets it Blue," Hound chuckled from behind both mechs. He glanced over Red Alert's shoulders and grinned even wider when he found the mass of Autobots in the rec-room. "So the lil' spark's finally been released from the med-bay? She's been the main topic of conversation ever since Jazz went yelling down the halls sayin' that he and Prowl had finally had a bitlet."

Red Alert scowled at the reminder of the saboteur's poorly planned announcement. There were so many procedures he had broken in that one long sprint around the _Ark_, including the new ones that had been established by Prowl in an attempt to prevent more of his processor crashes. Not that the third-in-command had actually read the memo detailing those new regulations.

"Don't go in there!" Red Alert snapped, reaching out to grab the scout's arm when he realized the other mech was going into the rec-room. "It's a Decepticon trap! That thing's making us all drop our guards before it steals into the night to murder us all in our sleep!"

The good-humored pat on the helm he received made his normal scowl deepen even more. Hound just smiled and walked off to his death while Mirage and Bluestreak stayed behind to keep the Security Director company.

"So there really is a sparkling in the _Ark_ now?" Bluestreak asked in barely restrained eagerness. Red Alert nodded and continued to glare as Hound joined the group of fawning, ignoring how Bluestreak turned to Mirage with a beatific smile on his face. "My wish came true 'Raj!"

"What?"

"Yeah! You remember the little acorn thing? I wished for a little brother or sister, except I didn't wish for an actual sibling. I was thinking more like how Carly goes to the high school and spends time with one of the students there. But this is even better! I can teach her all about being cute."

Mirage frowned as the Praxian was tackled and watched a seething Red Alert glare down at the confused mech. "_You_ were the one who did this? You brought a _Decepticon spy_ into the _Ark_? I have a hard enough time keeping those blasted Cassettes out of the vents, and you just bring a spy in all willy-nilly? Bluestreak…you were surprisingly the last mech I ever thought would betray our cause."

Bluestreak's door-wings scraped against the floor as their happy tilt deflated, and Mirage sighed at the thoroughly broken expression that crossed the grey mech's face. Periwinkle optics wavered with unshed Energon tears as Bluestreak's lower lip wobbled. "I'm sorry Red! I just…I just wanted a little brother or sister to teach all kinds of Autobot things to. I –I'm not a traitor; I swear!"

The Lamborghini continued to scowl before the expression was wiped from his face as he was effortlessly lifted off the mech. He glared towards Mirage until he realized the former noble didn't have the ability to lift him and still stand over an arm's length away. He tilted his head upwards and met a scowl that almost put his own to shame. _Almost_.

The two Lamborghini's glared at each other—one hovering over a foot in the air while the other held him by the slender bar behind his neck—until Sunstreaker snorted and carelessly tossed Red Alert to the side. "Get off of Bluestreak, moron. He wouldn't even be able to squish a Scraplet if it looked up at him with its big optics."

Mirage shook his head as Bluestreak graciously smiled up at the front-liner, who of course didn't find any appreciation in it. "Bluestreak, I am afraid your wish did not work."

"But-"

"What I told you was nothing but a silly human superstition that Hound had shared with me."

"Awe…then I don't like her," Bluestreak finished with a pout. "No one else can be cuter than me without my approval. Not even 'Bee."

Red Alert climbed back up to his feet, scrutinizing the three mechs in front of him. Bluestreak continued to pout, door-wings twitching in slight disapproval; Sunstreaker scowled into the rec-room where his brother was fawning over the femmeling; and Mirage looked on the scene with bored golden optics. There was potential in this group; Red Alert could feel it.

"Alright," Red Alert started with a clap to get the Autobot soldiers' attention. "From here on out you three will be assigned to the 'Uncovering-the-Decepticon-Sparkling-Spy' team."

They stared at him with blank optics until Bluestreak's door-wings perked up and his head tilted to the side in confusion. "What?"

"I'm not getting involved in this stupid slag."

"Do you honestly think Jazz would allow me to uncover this so-called 'spy' even if it were true?"

"Doesn't matter!" Red Alert snapped above the two mechs' complaints. Bluestreak just continued to stand there, confusion shining in his optics. "I'm ranked higher than all three of you combined, so you will obey your commanding officer or be thrown in the brig for insubordination. Any questions?" Mirage opened his mouth but sighed when Red Alert twisted around to peer into the rec-room again, and Sunstreaker lifted his hands as if he was about to strangle the paranoid mech before Bluestreak stopped him. "Good. Operation: Prove Me Right is a go."

**][**

The operation was long and tedious, lasting about a week before any hard evidence could be found. During that time, the femmeling had been named by the visiting Carly as Aurora because of some reminder of a childhood cartoon. She kept going on about how the pink of the femmeling's armor just matched some human clothing.

Aurora had been bounced around the Autobots whenever Ratchet approved the babysitting detail. He absolutely refused to acknowledge the position as the sparkling's "daddy", saying that having the Dinobots underfoot was bad enough. Besides Optimus had been in touch with the femme command back on Cybertron, and concerns had been addressed for a group of rag-tag mechs raising a tiny sparkling.

Red Alert planned to have the spy exposed before she was shipped back to Cybertron. And it all came down to this, glaring at her across the table where Blaster was playing peek-a-boo with the only slightly amused femmeling.

"Man, you got it real bad dis time, don'cha Red," Jazz commented when he noticed Red Alert's hard glare. "Ah don't think Ah've seen ya like this since ya logic circuits got fried."

"With that said, I believe it is time we bring this meeting to a start," Optimus said, gaining the attention of every officer in the room. Even Wheeljack paused with tampering with whatever unfinished device he had hidden beneath the table. "Red Alert, you were the one who called this meeting. Please start."

The Security Director nodded and surprised them all by not immediately jumping on the table and pointing an accusing finger at the sparkling. Instead he calmly clicked through the datapad he held and placed it face down on the table. "I'm pretty sure you know why I've called this meeting."

"'Cause ya missed us an' wanted ta spend more time tagether," Jazz said with a grin, leaning his elbows against the table and framing his face with his hands. "Ah miss ya to mech, but all ya gotta do is come to da rec-room durin' breaks instead o' staying holed up in da security wing."

Red Alert's professional air finally cracked as he jumped out of his chair and pointed at the sparkling that had been passed back to Ratchet. "I refuse to be in the same room as that spy!"

"Here we go again," Ironhide complained and placed one arm on the table to lean on. "How much longer ya gonna be on this Red?"

Sparks flickered above his head as he switched his glare to red mech. "Until one of you begin to actually listen to me!"

"Red Alert," Prowl neutrally replied in the wake of the Security Director's raised voice. "The mere odds of the Decepticons using a sparkling as a spy are so insignificantly small that they're not even worth mentioning."

"That's because she's not a sparkling! She's…something. Maybe even a drone created by Shockwave for this very purpose."

"A drone with a spark?" Ratchet countered as his legendary temper began to blossom under Red Alert's continued attack. "I scanned her for viruses, chips, encrypted comm. link channels, every fragging thing you've ever listed to be searched for when an unknown mech is brought into base! She's clean as a _sparkling_ should be."

"Then how do you explain this!" Red Alert shouted and flipped his datapad over with a flourish. He slid the pad to the middle of the table and stood there smugly as his comrades all leaned in to look at the picture he had pulled up. "I recruited an elite force to uncover this cretin-"

"So that's what 'Raj's been doin'?" Jazz piped up as he spun the pad around to get a better look. He chuckled. "Now Ah see why he just glared at me when Ah found 'im broodin' in da corner o' the rec-room with his cloakin' on."

"And why Bluestreak has been perfecting his 'Mission Impossible' humming," Prowl said, highly unamused. His door-wings perked up as he severely stared at the Security Director with dark blue optics. "Do not recruit him for another unauthorized operation again."

"I'm an officer!"

"I don't consider you having that power."

Optimus finally got a hold of the datapad that was being passed around and examined it closely before looking up to address Red Alert, who was in the middle of a heated stare-off with his SIC. "Red Alert, how exactly does _this_ prove Aurora is a spy?"

"Look at it!" Red Alert insisted, and after examining the photo again and still being at a complete loss, the paranoid Autobot snatched the datapad and jabbed his finger at the image of Aurora studiously reading a datapad in the midst of the active Autobot rec-room. "She's reading. Sparklings can't read!

"And she's always vanishing," Red Alert continued with an accusing finger pointed at the femmeling, who had to cross her optics to properly stare it. "How many times have I seen you through the security cameras searching for the Decepticon infiltrator? Are you telling me it's just coincidence that we found her in our weapon and Energon storages? _Twice? _And how about the strange way she clings to the Twins? She doesn't act that way even with Ratchet. I'm telling you, they're the most susceptible to Decepticon persuasion; just look at the way they act on a daily basis. And don't get me started on the strange things Mirage has caught her doing. Just the other day she-"

"Shut up!"

The Autobot officers stared in astonishment as a hurriedly constructed sippy cup went flying across the table to smack Red Alert in the head. Ratchet's hands went limp as the pink femmeling climbed out of his lap and stomped across the table to where Red Alert stood completely frozen. She picked up her thrown sippy cup along the way and pointed it up at him in the same way he had done to her since arriving.

"Quit talking about me like I'm not here! That's how it's been all week. You wanna know why I kept sneaking away? Because no one would leave me alone! Everyone wants to hold me, or cuddle me, or feed me this nasty smelling pink stuff. And you wanna know why I cling to the Twins? Because the yellow one's the only one who doesn't fawn over me! And yes I was reading, but what else am I supposed to do like this? No one lets me do anything!

"I didn't ask for this. I was just minding my own business before finding myself here. And, you know, at first it was really cool. I'm not a Decepticon fangirl, so when they told me they were sending me over here, I thought, 'Neat! I'll be able to see all my favorite Transformers _and_ tell them what the Decepticons were doing.' But then that one-eyed creep put me in this body! And then they had the nerve to send me by mail. The mail!

"And what the heck is wrong with you guys? Do you seriously just trust anything that comes in the mail from an unmarked address? Did it ever _once_ occur to you how strange it was to get a baby that way? The Decepticons should have just sent a freakin' bomb through the mail ages ago and won the war!

"And this whole time, I've been _trying_ to tell you! But the only ones who slow down long enough to listen to me are the Dinobots, and none of you take them seriously do you? Well, that's too bad because they're smartest damn people around here. Except for this jerk here. At least he had enough common sense to be wary about the whole thing. For shame Prowl that you, being one of the most logical bots in the fandom, didn't even see it.

"And my name's not Aurora! It's Megan."

The mechs stared as the femmeling's rant finally came to an end. None of them could move as they slowly processed what the little, girly voice had just said. Red Alert's optics lit up as he completed analyzing what the sparkling had said and haughtily stared down each mech in the room. "I was right! In your faces! See? _See?_ This is why I'm the Security Director. I fragging told you _all!"_

Jazz tilted his head to the side as Red Alert proceeded to do a jig around the table, pointing at each Autobot and reminding them that he was right. He smirked at the pouting femmeling still standing in the middle of the table as Red Alert made a full circuit and started another. "Does that mean we can't cuddle no more?"

Megan the Pink Sparkling glared at him with narrowed blue optics. "I don't wanna cuddle with _anyone _ever again for the rest of my life."

"D'awe."

"You know what this means?" Red Alert said after completing his second trip and the others began to regain their ability of speech. "You have to take my suspicions more serious now. And I want to start with the topic of the humans."

"Just 'cause you were right 'bout this doesn't mean you're right about everything else," Ironhide said before turning to Optimus while Blaster got a separate chair for Megan, who thanked him most graciously and sat in the chair where no one could see her at all save for the very top of her head. "What are we gonna do about this? It's the second time the 'Cons have sent us femmes. It's gettin' kinda creepy now."

"Yes," Optimus agreed with a contemplating stroke of his chin. He turned to Prowl but immediately turned away when he found the tactician's optics dimmed to their lowest setting. Apparently the Praxian hadn't been able to fully digest the fact that one of Red Alert's outlandish paranoid hallucinations had been right for once. "I believe it is imperative that we do more this time than just allow Special Ops to return the problem."

A tiny hand shot up from below the table and waved around frantically. "I know where one of their secret bases is! They shipped me from it."

"Is that so?" Optimus hummed in deep thought. He turned to Wheeljack, who had been strangely quiet through the meeting. "Wheeljack-"

"I wasn't making a bomb under the table!" the engineer denied in a knee-jerk reaction. His optics winked as everyone pointedly shoved their chairs away from the table. "Oh, you didn't know that…what was it you needed Optimus?"

"Well…you may get a chance to test out that new bomb."

"Oh goody!"

**][**

Megatron scowled down at the Combaticon, who nervously shifted from one foot to the other. "_What_ happened?"

"Uh, well, you see," Swindle stuttered in an uncharacteristic bout of nerves. But who wouldn't be nervous when facing Megatron after a disaster like this? "You know how I use some of the human's services for business-"

"Skip to the part where I actually care."

"One of the drones signed for a package…and it went 'boom'…along with everything else."

Starscream snickered from where he stood on his leader's right, and Soundwave merely turned down his audio receptors as the tyrant went into tirade. Poor Swindle took the brute of the angered words with only a flinch or two before fleeing the room the first chance he got. Megatron banged his fist against the arm of his throne and leaned back as his top officers moved to the front of him. "Soundwave, where is that fragging fangirl? I ordered her be obtained two cycles ago."

If he hadn't known Soundwave, he would have said that the Communications Officer actually looked _embarrassed._ "Mission: Aborted."

"Aborted? How dare you abort a direct order!"

Soundwave said nothing, instead choosing to release the Cassette he had sent on the mission. Megatron and Starscream stared as the Cassette master's chest remained open just wide enough for a Cassette to slip through. Soundwave angled his chin down to see inside and resorted to reaching inside and manually removing one of the occupants. A yowl echoed through the large throne room as Ravage was forced out and dropped to the ground to transform.

Starscream burst into screechy laughter, and Megatron just stared. The now glaringly pink and glittered feline snarled at the Seeker and sulked back to hide behind Soundwave's leg. The cobalt mech chose to have mercy on the embarrassed Cassette and allowed him to return shortly after. "Fangirl: Traitor. Sabotaged mission."

Megatron's howl of anger could barely be heard above Starscream's laughter. The Seeker yelped as a shot from the leader's fusion cannon just barely skimmed the top of his wing. "Shut up Starscream! Prepare for the next fangirl."

"I can't," Starscream snarkily replied after dashing across the room to avoid the Decepticon commander's wrath. "I _selflessly_ sacrificed my berth as scrap metal to help repair the east hull."

Soundwave released an audible sigh of relief that was left unheard as Megatron began to viciously stalk a screeching Starscream. Primus had finally answered his monotonous prayers; no more fangirls…

"Guess who Shockwave just shoved through the Space Bridge!"

"I missed you Soundy!"

Thundercracker actually felt bad when he heard the stoic mech squeal in absolute terror and saw him run out the room closely followed by Skywarp and Staci. He had tried to stall them; he really had.

…oh well. He heard one of the gestalts had high jacked another cable satellite for tonight. There was no way he was missing this movie night, especially now that this fangirl business was finally over.

* * *

**AN:** Well, that is the official end to the fangirl one-shots. It was fun while it lasted :)

Transformers ©Hasbro


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